


Variables

by goodmorningvietnam666



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types, Hawkeye (Comics), Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Love, Best Friends, Choose Your Own Ending, Clint Is a Good Bro, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Peter is also a good bro, Peter's taste in music is amazing, Romantic Comedy, Tony has a lot of problems and needs a hug, Tony puts up with a lot, Unrequited Love, and is very good at hiding all of his feels, he also tells amazing puns, he has a lot of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:59:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2719568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorningvietnam666/pseuds/goodmorningvietnam666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has known, for a while now, that he has loved Clint Barton, who, unfortunately, is 80% sure he likes women.</p>
<p>Enter Peter Quill, with his own relationship problems, who has a great plan: a fake relationship.</p>
<p>Tony knows this won't end well, but goes along with it anyway, and finds himself with one question:</p>
<p>Peter or Clint?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Courage

**Author's Note:**

> Someone told me I never write any cheesy romance, and I did try, but these men are too badass for cheesy romance - so I threw in a dash of awesome and started writing this for them to prove that I can be all romanc-y and cliche. 
> 
> This is also a choose your own ending thing, and maybe, if its successful, I'll mess with it to make it a choose your own adventure fic, but that makes me nervous so I'll have to wait and see about that.
> 
> Forgive me - romance has never been a forte of mine and this tuned into more of a 'Tony actually has great friends who love him he just doesn't realize that' fiction... anyway, feedback is always welcome and enjoy the read!

Tony didn’t have many friends in life, and those he did were fairly far between, so sue him if he was a little possessive. Clint Barton was easily Tony’s best friend: strong, handsome, honest, dependable Clint Barton – the same Clint Barton he was insanely in love with. Maybe four months after he’d met Clint, Tony had known that the archer was different, he never gave Tony an inch, calling him out on his bullshit without an apology tailing it, he was able to banter with Tony and they could hang around each other for days on end. Clint was different because Tony was hopelessly in love with him, and that love, the absolute adoration he felt for Clint whenever the archer was around… that love was completely unrequited. 

Clint had shut Tony down on numerous occasions whenever he’d made an advance that was far from friendly, once, Clint had said that he was ‘80% sure he liked women’ and Tony had flirtatiously responded with “what about the other 20%?” to which Clint had smiled and shook his head and all at once Tony had stopped with the flirting and resigned himself to just being Clint’s friend. 

He hated it, hated the fact that here was this funny, amazing man that Tony didn’t feel the need to impress on a daily basis and that man wasn’t interested. The reasons were he didn’t like men, it would ruin their friendship, he wasn’t ready or sure… the excuses never seemed to end. 

“Peter, what’s wrong with me?” 

It was a Monday, and he’d come home to find Peter Quill sitting on his couch without the other guardians, head down, shoulders tense and voice quiet. Tony had asked, and the answer he’d gotten was “Gamora isn’t interested in me” 

So, he’d found his pair: Peter Quill. 

They’d spent the evening watching movies and catching up, their energy winding down as midnight rolled by, silently watching evening sitcoms and using the dim light of the television to see. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you Tony” Peter responded, accent putting a lilt to his words that Tony found just that little bit attractive. 

He and Peter had bonded over their love of everything 80’s, and had become fast friends when they’d first met. Tony’s taste in rock n’ roll and Peter’s in feel good music may have clashed but their personalities certainly hadn’t: Peter was another friend he kept close to him at all times. 

“Okay, if there’s nothing wrong with me, and there’s nothing wrong with you either, why can’t we seem to find love?” Tony responded, words bitter and soft, a sting to them that felt a little like self-pity.

“Don’t the most smartest people say ‘nothing good in life is ever easy’?” his friend responded gently “Maybe we aren’t trying hard enough”

“Most Intelligent” Tony automatically corrected, grinning at the shove he received in response.

“Seriously” Peter urged “What do you think? And don’t correct me – you knew what I was saying”

“I know I knew, but it doesn’t make it any less funny to watch you squirm” he quipped, holding up his arms protectively at the playful hit aimed at his head, chuckling at the humour of his friend’s response. 

Peter shook his head, an easy smile on his face “You’re impossible”

“Did you know that a synonym for good-natured is marshmallow? Could you even imagine using that in a sentence?” Tony segued quickly. 

“Tony: you’re a marshmallow kind of person” his friend said, testing the word and grimacing before letting a laugh pass his lips “Nah, it doesn’t sound right”

“Well, that’s an understatement” Tony replied with a grin.

“Where do you get all of this information anyway… and where the heck do you store it?” Peter asked playfully. 

“I get bored” he answered simply “And it’s called a brain Pete” he added, ducking again at another swing to his person, attempting one of his own and laughing when it was caught and his friend pushed him off of the couch “You’re a royal asshole you know that?” 

“Yeah, and I’m pretty proud of it too” Peter replied, a smug grin on his face “What were we talking about?”

“You mean, more accurately, what was I avoiding talking about?” Tony supplied as he picked himself up and sat back down on the couch, leaning back against Peter’s side and pulling his legs up onto the couch “And the subject was ‘all good things are never easy’ – to which I completely disagree: we’ve both really dug our feet in and gotten nothing from it”

His friend hummed thoughtfully at that, and then squawked in protest when Tony shot up off the couch, managing to elbow Peter in the process. 

“Shit I have a thing tonight!” he exclaimed, making a dash for a mirror but halted by Peter’s hand on his arm. 

“Easy” his friend said calmly “You look fine” 

Tony took a breath and nodded, and then an idea struck him “Do you want to tag along? It saves being bored around here for hours – plus you get to wear a suit” 

“What’s wrong with what I always wear?” Peter asked, eyebrows raised either in shock or confusion: Tony couldn’t tell “And it’s also – not plus”

“Well isn’t that ironic?” he noted with a grin “Now come on, yay or nay?” 

Peter pursed his lips for a moment “Yay”

///

Tony’s ‘thing’ was actually a charity even for America’s homeless citizens under 18, and the turnout was huge as he rolled his Chevrolet, licence plate reading “STARK-09”, into the driveway of the Brotherhood Winery. The organiser of the event was holding the event on the cobblestone patio, tables, a small stage for a band and lights brightening the already classic atmosphere. He brought his car to a stop, parking it and waiting for Peter to join his side before walking up the small steps and onto the patio. The charity event was so far accommodating at least 200 people, all with expensive wine in their hands and immaculate suits. Tony almost felt bad for not checking himself in the mirror. 

“So, this is what you usually do with your evenings?” Peter asked softly, leaning close to him so that Tony could hear his friend properly.

“No, normally my evenings are filled with marathons of sci-fi movies and, if you ask the media, women” Tony answered, eyes flitting across the people attending. He had donated, everyone had, but he’d been too bogged down with paperwork to take a long look at the attendance list Pepper had handed him on Friday evening.

Peter chuckled “I don’t trust the media”

“You’re one of the first people who has said that to me” Tony admitted “Victor!!” he called, eyes catching sight of one of the few people who he personally knew at the event, dragging Peter along with him as he came closer to the other business man. “Victor Hill, this is Peter Quill: he’s a friend of mine” he said, trying to stifle the laugh that was threatening to appear at his unintended rhyme. 

“Hello to you too Tony” Victor responded after shaking Peter’s hand with a friendly smile “Have you been keeping well?” 

“Eh… you could say that… I mean, I’m healthy, but the company is doing my head in” he replied scratching the back of his neck in the form of a pause “How about you?” 

Victor smiled and shook his head “This fiscal year might be the death of me Tony – I need a break”

“Is it almost October already?” Tony asked, glancing at Peter, who smiled and shook his head. 

“We’re in the middle of October” Peter answered with the same smile still on his face. 

Tony groaned and threw his head back, uttering a soft ‘why?’ before returning his gaze to Victor “I haven’t even looked at my financial statements yet”

“Ah, the difficulties of running a company” Victor teased gently “I’m sure you’ll be fine Tony… anyway, there are a few investors I need to get my claws into, so, enjoy your night. It was nice to have met you Peter”

Peter nodded and smiled and Victor took that as his cue to leave, Tony just smiled and knocked shoulders with his friend “Did you keep up with all that?” 

“Nope” Peter said with a smile and a shake of his head “But it’s okay: I’m a guardian, not a businessman”

Tony nodded and chuckled, taking a long look around the patio, noting the people who were talking and laughing, and the press that were flitting between the groups and interviewing various people. He hoped that they wouldn’t notice him, but being the icon that he was he knew it was inevitable. Attention from the media was something that was difficult to juggle: too much and it would blow up in his face, but too little and rumours spread or people lost interest. 

Between being a celebrity, a superhero, a business owner, and a co-director, Tony was starting to wear a little thin. 

“So, are we avoiding the press, or getting their attention?” Peter asked softly, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder and leaning close, before adding “I can pretty much hear you thinking right now… you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine” Tony answered automatically, before adding “Just a little distracted…”

“And the press?” his friend asked gently, squeezing his shoulder firmly. 

“Avoiding - for as long as possible that is” Tony replied with a small smile “They’ll find me out eventually” 

Eventually turned out to be in twenty minutes time, when a brunette woman in a long, pink evening dress tailed by a man in a suit with a camera on his shoulder strode over to him with clear purpose. 

Tony was always ready with a fake smile and heavy charisma, and tonight was no difference, he flashed a winning smile as easily as he would blink as he turned to the woman, and gently tapped Peter’s arm to alert his friend to her presence. 

“Tony Stark! Hi, I’m Cristina Dean with the Weekly Event, do you have a few minutes for some questions?” the woman introduced herself with the clear confidence of a practised reporter, all smiles and good posture. 

Tony responded with almost the same energy, though it was toned down because he wasn’t excited to see her. 

“Of course” he answered with that same easy smile, and watching her reaction, he knew that she’d bought it. 

“That’s great! Tonight’s all about helping out the homeless youths of America, what are your thoughts on the growing issue this country is facing?” Cristina asked confidently.

“Well Cristina, I think that’s an incredibly easy question to answer, my thoughts, displayed by my actions here, are that it is an issue, and the government needs to take a good look at how many people are aware that its going on, and multiply that number”

“An answer and a solution in one sentence, that makes my job a little easier” she joked, eliciting a laugh from him with actual humour behind it. 

From behind him, he heard a screech from a different reporter “Mr Stark! Who are you wearing?!” 

Tony smiled apologetically to Cristina and turned around, glancing briefly at the cuff of his suit “Uh… Vuitton, I think” 

He almost jumped five feet in the air when Peter gently pulled down the collar of his suit jacket, then nodded at him.

Once the other reporter had finished harping questions at him from across the patio, Tony turned back to Cristina and smiled apologetically “Vultures”

“I’ll try to not take offence to that” Cristina replied with a laugh, and Tony chuckled as well “Who’s your friend?”

“I’m Peter, no one famous… and, uh, more than friend” Peter answered before he could speak, and Tony stared at his friend for the longest amount of time as Peter continue to talk with the reporter, winding an arm around Tony’s shoulders.

_More than friend???_

For the rest of the interview, Tony was on complete autopilot, and once Cristina, and her cameraman, had walked away, he brought a hand up and cuffed Peter across the head. 

“More than friend?!” he hissed, finding a small amount of satisfaction from the pained look on his friend’s face.

“I know, I know I’m sorry… I just had an idea and I couldn’t exactly pull you aside to tell you!!” Peter apologised earnestly, and slowly, Tony found he wasn’t mad: just shocked. 

“I don’t know how you’re going to make Gamora jealous when she doesn’t even know what a standard human couple is, let alone how they act!!” he chided as he dragged Peter away from the event and to the car, slapping his friend on the arm for emphasis.

“You don’t know that! This could work for both of us! Come on Tony at least give it a shot” Peter was almost begging now, a soothing hand falling on Tony’s arm.

He groaned quietly and leaned against the hood of his car, bowing his head and scrubbing a hand over his face “There are about a hundred reasons why I shouldn’t do this… but desperate times I suppose” he reasoned “I mean, really, what could possibly go wrong?”


	2. Determination

The day after the charity event, the media had blown up his new ‘relationship’, the front page of the Bugle reading “Tony Stark’s partner: Lover or publicity stunt?” and others along the same lines. Talk shows, celebrity magazines, blogs and radio channels were exploding with the news of Tony being “tied down at last”. His publicist had called, frazzled and a little mad because he hadn’t told her, and Pepper had called too, but she had reminded him that he had work and that whether Peter was a publicity stunt or not, he had to get it done. Hosts from acclaimed celebrity talk shows were sending his phone flat, and as he sat, head down at his work desk reading the same line for the fourth time in a row, he chided himself for uttering the line “what could possibly go wrong?” 

He sighed and rested his head in his hand, the other tapping fingers rhythmically against the hardwood desk as the muffled sounds of work surrounded his office. He had retaken control of his company in order to prove to himself that he was driven, and he could take responsibility. If he was honest, he had given up the position of CEO because he was being lazy and unmotivated, but now he had thrown himself back in he was regretting his guilty conscience. 

He was too distracted and the workload was too much. 

His door opened and he sprung back to work, hoping it looked like he had been busy for the past five minutes. He almost jumped when he caught sight of purple armour and then heard the sound of something hitting the floor. It didn’t take long for him to jump out of his chair and pull Clint into a tight hug with a smile and a yell of “Clint!!” 

“Hey Tony” his best friend replied, arms coming around to return the hug “Been keeping busy?”

He scoffed, and grinned, squeezing Clint tighter “No, when do I ever get busy?” 

“Never I guess” the archer reasoned, wincing when Tony squeezed a little too tightly “Careful – ribs are healing”

“What happened?” Tony asked, stepping back from his friend and running his eyes up and down over Clint’s body. 

It was concern that drove him, but it certainly didn’t hurt to look, Tony found his gaze lingering at hips, shoulders and chest for longer than he’d have liked to admit, but he knew that Clint, being used to his advances, would ignore it: he always did.

“One HYDRA agent got lucky with a lead pipe – it hurt more when I got back than at the time it happened, I may or may not have given Coulson an aneurism”

He chuckled in response, sitting on the edge of his desk and tracking Clint with his eyes as the archer tentatively sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “I’m surprised you know what an aneurism is Clint” he teased, using his forearm to block the backhand aimed at him and laughing. 

“You know, if I wasn’t trying to do what Coulson told me to for once I would drop you in the span of a second” his friend threatened playfully, catching Tony’s attempt at a punch and then the second attempt, pulling him towards the archer roughly and catching his shoulders to halt his fall “I will win Stark – don’t challenge me”

“I will challenge you Clint; I’m theoretically untouchable” he said, a laugh chasing his sentence. 

“That’s cute Stark” his friend bantered easily “Aren’t you supposed to be doing work?”

“Not if you want to go to coffee” Tony replied, pulling the archer up by the other man’s waist and holding the door open for Clint “Come on – I need a lunch break anyway” 

///

Coffee with Clint had been fun, normal, a nice break in his extremely abnormal week; Clint was the perfect break into something he could do without effort, where he didn’t have to worry about impressing anyone, or how many lies he would have to tell to get by, or how many piles of work were waiting on his desk, or how many potential villains were locked up in the Vault right now, waiting for the chance to escape. 

Clint was right when he said that Tony worried too much. 

He was home again, after a long afternoon of work in which the hours and minutes seemed to drag on, slower and slower until the hour that he could go home rolled by, and he had been so engrossed in the work that a worker had knocked on his door and offered “Everyone’s leaving Mr Stark” with a gentle smile before closing the door behind him gently. 

He had only stayed two hours later, powering through the remaining files on his desk and feeling a small sense of accomplishment when the final page moved to the ‘finished’ pile and the clock on his desk ticked over to 7:00. He had walked home, hands in his pockets and gait slow as New York flashed past him, entering his mansion and noting the almost still silence of the entrance. 

He wasn’t often a lonely person; in fact he enjoyed the silence of his house when he was alone, but since he’d lost Jarvis, his butler that was more like family: things had gotten too quiet, too lonely… 

Then he had found Clint, and he’d thought he had a solution, but it was whisked out from beneath his feet too. Now he was weaving a careful web of lies that he wasn’t sure he knew the way out of… all to try and make someone who wasn’t interested, interested. 

Surprisingly, Peter was waiting for him in the kitchen, a triumphant smile highlighting his handsome features and his folded arms emphasising the well-muscled status of his biceps. Tony would always appreciate a pretty face, and by extension, a nice body, but he’d always see the higher value of a beautiful temperament and a glowing personality.

“I made lasagne” his friend stated proudly “Found the recipe in one of your cookbooks, I didn’t know you cooked” 

“How did you assume I ate?” he replied with a smile: this was easy and safe, Peter and he knew each other, and Tony wasn’t in love with Peter “It smells good” he added after as a compliment, watching as his friend dished out the food, snorting when the image of Peter in a frilly apron came to mind. 

“Don’t tell me: you imagined me in an apron” Peter stated with feigned tiredness, laughing when Tony nodded in answer “That’s rude”

“Then why did you laugh?” he responded, taking the necessary cutlery to set the table and then sitting when his food was placed in front of him.

“Because I imagined you in an apron as revenge” Peter stated smugly, catching the spoon that was thrown at him and raising his eyebrows as a response.

“Too spoon?” Tony asked with a grin, chuckling when Peter grinned and shook his head with a breathy laugh.

“So impossible” his friend noted as they both started eating “I need to write a list of impossible things you do and publish it to the media”

“You wouldn’t” Tony replied confidently, a laugh chasing the sentence “I would take you down socially” 

“Take me down socially?” Peter repeated, a grin forming on his lips “Bring it on”

“I will bring it on – but after dinner: you can cook” he said with a grin, and they fell into a comfortable silence.

After dinner, they retreated to the vast living room, and had put on the original Star Wars series, settling into the couch and talking softly over the sounds of gunfire and ship engines. 

“Could you ever make a Millennium Falcon? I bet everyone would take you seriously in a ship that sleek” Tony asked softly, leaning into his friend when Peter lifted an arm in invitation. 

They were both, as playboys, extremely tactile people, and relied more or less on physical contact to communicate, as words were often difficult and with many meanings. Touch was simple, it was read easily and was a universal language; it was likely why they found it so easy to just… fall into a relationship – they had grown used to using touch instead of words.

“What’s wrong with the Milano? You liked the Milano” Peter replied equally as quietly.

“Yeah but… the Millennium Falcon” he argued, spanning his arms out widely as if he were showing people the landscape around them. 

“No one in space knows what the Falcon is – it’d be pointless” his friend dismissed, gently winding an arm around Tony’s shoulders “Besides, I wouldn’t have any ideas where to start… do you think Rocket could make a lightsaber? I kinda need one” 

“I’m pretty sure he could actually” Tony answered, then looked over his shoulder to face his friend “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into? With me – I mean”

“I know I’ve got a good friend – but not what I’m getting into by dating that good friend” Peter replied. 

“About every single minute you are outside of this house: the media will be watching, waiting, because the sad thing about them is they want bad news for controversy and attention… My publicist is deciding on our next move – so if we just hang back and wait everything will go smoothly… you’re getting yourself into a celebrity relationship: emotions run high and most people crumble beneath the pressure” Tony explained, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose “Not to mention that the guy who will likely give you the shovel talk can kill you before you know he’s there among many other dangerous aspects… I don’t know how you’re going to handle this Pete – it’s extremely stressful and we’re going to have a lot of attention on us”

“Don’t worry so much Tony – I’ll just listen to what you tell me and we’ll get through it together okay? This isn’t actually a relationship… more like… I don’t know but something where you can back out at anytime”

Tony took a breath and nodded several times to show he understood, then shooting up out of his seat so quickly he managed to elbow Peter in the ribs, something that was turning into a bad habit “Sorry!”

“It’s okay” Peter said, forcing a smile “Another thing?”

“SHIELD Director stuff this time… I forgot to hand in a few papers to Fury” he replied, groaning to display his frustration then laughing in a helpless way. 

Peter’s hands were on his shoulders then, pulling him close and enveloping him in a tight embrace. For a brief moment, Tony felt the stress fall back in favour of listening to the steady heartbeat of his friend, and the way that strong arms wrapped his shoulders in warmth. 

“Thanks” Tony said softly, chuckling weakly. 

“You really need to calm down: you’re scaring me” Peter replied “Come on: We’ll do this and then I’ll buy you a drink”

///

‘A drink’ had eventually turned into a night of drinking for himself and Peter, and when he was rudely awoken by his alarm Tony groaned, feeling the dull pounding of a headache in his temples as he flipped the alarm off and got out of bed, showering and dressing before grabbing keys to his home and leaving with barely a sound. 

He walked through New York slowly, walking into a coffee shop on the way to work and ducking into the line, waiting until he got to the front and pasting on the same winning smile he always used. 

“Black coffee if you could” he said, the smile on his face feeling a little tired. 

The barista smiled and nodded “You look like you could use it – under Tony?”

“Please” he replied, waiting with the other customers for his order and making small talk with an accountant from the building across the road from his, bidding the man farewell when their coffee was served. 

When his was called it was by a young girl with short black hair and a name tag that read ‘Cori’, she smiled at him as he payed “Tony Stark right?” he looked up at her question and nodded, she grinned in response “Your new partner seems nice – my mom thinks you’re cute” 

Tony chuckled and thanked her, leaving the shop with the Styrofoam cup half empty from the long drink he pulled from it, revelling in the bitter jolt of caffeine he received. Upon entering his building he was bombarded with the noise of keys, papers, printers and pagers; the headache he had was slowly getting worse and the loud atmosphere was not helping. He was relieved once he entered his office and the sound of working became slightly quieter.

Today was Wednesday, and he hated Wednesdays, because it meant that there were bound to be one hundred meetings on his plate, and making time for them was the hardest part of it. He swore softly when he read through the scheduled appointments listed on a form on his desk: there were at least seven different things here. 

“Pepper!” he called, voice sounding strangled as he downed the last of his coffee and turned to his assistant as she strode in with clear purpose: she thought he was going to argue. “Do you think you can work a few publicity gigs into my schedule? Aria thinks she’s got a few ideas but if what’s here today is any indication it may cut into a lot of work” Aria Jones was Tony’s publicist, a smart and dedicated woman who lived on coffee and worked later than most people he knew; she was always watching out for bad press, and had an eye for what would boost his reputation.

Pepper looked a little shocked for a moment, but then she pursed her lips and nodded “I’ll talk it over with her… thank you Mr Stark”

Tony smiled and shook his head “Like I tell everyone: it’s Tony” he reminded her as he left his office, sucking in a breath to brace himself: it was going to be a long day. 

///

He entered home through his garage that night, and almost had to look twice when he noted that the Milano was taking up three spaces, engine compartment open with Peter kneeling over it, a screwdriver clamped in his mouth and a wrench in hand. 

“Why?” Tony asked simply, leaning back on the hood of one of his cars and folding his arms.

“The rest of the guardians took a different ship when I said I needed a break: so I left it in here” Peter answered with the screwdriver still in his mouth, smiling when the cassette inside his ship turned over, playing the same feel good tunes as it always did “You never noticed?” 

“No… which is weird right?” Tony replied with a shake of his head, not waiting for the answer before continuing “I’m heading inside: join me whenever”

He caught the thumbs up his friend gave him as he entered the homier part of his mansion, jumping a little too violently at the knock on his door. 

It was Clint, his best friend standing there, dressed down in jeans and a hoodie with a hand in his pocket and a grin on his face “Need some company?”

That was Tony’s favourite thing about Clint: he knew him. Clint knew Tony had an empty house with a lot of missing pieces and made it a point to fill in the missing parts with his presence.

“Even if I said no would you leave?” Tony asked rhetorically, sweeping his hand towards the inside of his home and closing the door behind the archer.

“This place is always so clean… I feel like I have all the time in the world, but never enough to fix up apartment number ten” Clint noted softly, his voice smooth and cool as always, given a lilt by his own accent that swung up and down in tone in an almost soothing way. 

Clint was always going through apartments: not because he had the moving bug, but because someone always found a way to blow them up on him. The good things were that the archer always had his most valuable possessions with him, and that he would sometimes live with Tony when between living arrangements, but the bad thing was that his best friend never really had a chance to settle. 

“So, Nat informed me that you’re no longer single… should I congratulate you?” Clint continued, perching on the edge of his kitchen bench, taking his phone from his pocket and tossing it between both hands smoothly. 

Tony had to take a breath: he’d never lied like this to Clint, and the magnitude of the web he was about the weave, and the bug he would be catching, felt like it was crushing him slowly. So, he did what he was good at: he put on a show. 

“I uh, I don’t think you congratulate someone with a ball and chain Clint” he said, noting the smirk that it got out of his best friend before continuing “But yeah, if ‘no longer single’ are the words Natasha is using then I guess I’ll use them too”

“So who is he?” The protectiveness in Clint’s tone set his heart soaring, and Tony found it a little difficult to remain as resigned but enthusiastic (something he’d practised for hours) as he was trying to be. 

“Hey Tony? I may or may not have broken something!”

It was Peter, and Tony couldn’t help but snort and repress the cackle threatening to surface (ugly laughter that only his friends were privy too) “You or the ship?”

“Huh?” Peter replied as he came into view, running a cloth over his oil covered hands “Oh, not me, the ship… I’ll double check it later…. Hi”

Tony was a little shocked at how at ease Peter sounded around Clint, who had leapt off of the bench to shake his ‘boyfriend’s’ hand; he had told his friend exactly what the archer could do and there wasn’t one bit of fear in Peter’s eyes as they spoke. 

“… so yeah, that’s what I get up to when I’m not touching base… how about you? Also, where are you from?” 

Tony had zoned out for a long moment, and only caught the last part of Peter’s answer to whatever Clint had asked, and from then he aimed to pay more attention. 

“I don’t know if Stark’s told you but I kill people” Tony had to roll his eyes at that and got a good punch to his arm from Clint for it “And I’m from Iowa”

“No way!’ Peter’s voice read excitement “I’m from Colorado!”

“Country dwellers” Tony teased softly, chuckling at the shove he received from Peter and the glare he got from Clint. 

It was either about to be a long night, or an incredibly short one: he just had to rely on luck that Clint didn’t find him out – or he’d be in a huge amount of trouble.


	3. Perserverance

Clint and Peter had gotten along really well the night before, which was good, but it was also not good. Because after Peter had retreated to his bedroom Clint had smiled at him and said “I’m happy for you, he seems like a good guy”. Tony had nodded, but once Clint had left at three in the morning, he had had to scream into a pillow for a good minute, falling asleep in the span of seconds after his miniature tantrum. 

Thursday went fast, and in the span of seconds it seemed like it was Friday and both Pepper and Aria had organised a few events and interviews for a rebuttal of any speculation made by the media about himself and Peter. 

That was how he found himself back stage at a talk show, straightening Peter’s tie for the fourth time and muttering to himself about things that might as well have been nonsense to everyone within earshot: which was Peter. 

His hands were taken gently by his friend’s and Peter smiled softly, giving Tony’s hands a firm squeeze “Calm down – we’ll be fine”

Tony nodded and took a bracing breath, leaning his head against Peter’s right shoulder and feeling arms come around him, his hands slipping from Peter’s grip as warm hands rested on his back. 

“We’ll be fine” Peter repeated “Stop stressing” 

“I… okay” Tony said softly “I just… I don’t want to be put on the spot, you know?”

“I know I’m scared too” his friend replied, pulling back from him to catch his gaze “Just smile and do what you’re good at”

Tony took another long breath and nodded with a shaky smile “Okay”

The interview moved smoothly, the questions were easy to answer and the rumours easier to rebut, having Peter next to him, their arms touching and hands brushing, was a huge boost to his confidence, which rose with each easy question. As they were nearing the end, the reporter was growing more and more confident with the level of questioning they were giving, and suddenly, almost at once, answering the next question became very difficult. 

“So how about a kiss?” At this several members of the live audience catcalled or cheered loudly, and Tony felt his chest tighten for a brief moment before Peter was squeezing his hand and looking at him in a concerned way. 

This was the only aspect of their fake relationship that Tony was at all worried about: affection. Hugging, holding hands and holding one another was easy, but this? Tony shrugged, aiming at nonchalance, knowing Peter saw his hesitation, and gave his friend the briefest of kisses, lips only touching for a bare second. He knew the audience wouldn’t be happy, but he didn’t expect Peter to press a hand to the back of his neck and kiss him properly. The crowd’s disappointment turned to cheers but Tony couldn’t quite register that part of the environment, but instead he focused on the fact that his friend’s kiss was intoxicating, firm and confident and the heat of it was intense. Slowly, carefully, he placed his hands at Peter’s neck and slipped his tongue in Peter’s mouth, grinning at the noise of surprise his friend made before pulling back with a soft grin on his face. 

Tony knew then that this was either the beginning of something good, or the beginning of a very difficult end. Time would tell. 

///

“Thanks” 

It was Saturday morning, and Tony had been feeling guilty for giving Peter the placated version of the silent treatment, having said barely a word to his friend after Friday’s events because his feelings had been in such an array and he’d needed the evening to get a hold of himself.

“For?” Peter asked, ducking his head out from the engine compartment of the Milano, a streak of oil smeared across one cheekbone. 

“Saving me on Friday: I had no idea what I was doing” he answered, turning back to the armoured hand that was resting on his workbench and grinning “Oil: on your right cheek”

“Oh, yeah, no problem” Peter responded, voice gaining an echo as his friend ducked back into the compartment “I thought you were mad”

Tony chuckled “Nah, just shocked and a little worried… I got over it” he admitted, fiddling with the wiring that was within the centre of the hand’s palm, taking the tweezers handed to him by Dummy and patting the arm encouragingly, murmuring his thanks before putting the impromptu tool to use. 

“Well, that puts me at ease” his friend said before humming “You don’t have any shock emitters do you? I think all she might need is a kick to get purring again”

“What did you even break?” Tony asked in bewilderment, searching for the hands to his most recent suit Shockwave: which did as the label read. 

“Dropped a heavy wrench right on the equivalent to a car’s transmission” Peter replied, pulling himself out of the ship’s insides and sitting on the hood “Poor girl just gurgles a little now”

Tony hummed in recognition of Peter as he equipped the warranted suit and clambered up onto the ship, sitting next to Peter and looking at the Milano’s sleek, chrome, engine “Where am I laying my hands?”

“Easy” his friend said, taking Tony’s wrists with his hands and wrapping them around two obviously specific areas of the ‘transmitter’ “Now shock when I say go” Peter instructed, leaping up and sliding into one of the pilot seats of the ship, giving its dash a pat then uttering “Go”

The shock pulse zipped through the engine and the ship purred to life with a pitched whine that gained in speed and Peter whooped happily “Atta girl!!”

The engine died again and both he and Peter slid down from the ship, the Iron Man suit folding off and packing itself away neatly. 

“You and me, we make a good team Tony” Peter said proudly, swinging an arm around his shoulders and squeezing gently, leading the way out of the garage. 

“We do” Tony agreed, reaching a hand up to scrape away the oil still present on his friend’s face. 

“Maybe I wanted that there” Peter said defensively, a gentle smile on his face as his friend stopped walking to allow for Tony to concentrate on his task. 

“Well, I can’t take you seriously with it there so, it comes off” Tony replied, grinning when the smudge was removed and wrapping an arm around his friends waist tightly “Let’s go for a walk”

“Sounds good; I’ll grab my coat” Peter agreed, unwinding from Tony’s hold and dashing through the house.

Tony smiled and left the mansion, standing outside on the street with his hands in his; leather jacket keeping the chill in the air out and warmth in. Peter joined him after a moment, and once he’d locked the mansion up, they started ambling down the street, shoulders touching and arms brushing together as Saturday workers or families walked down the same sidewalk, cars and taxis zipping through the quiet street. They came upon Central Park, and by then Tony was laughing at one of Peter’s misadventures, both himself and his friend laughing loudly as they entered the gigantic block of land. 

“No but really, this thing was about as tall as a skyscraper and there I was in its home with its treasure: I nearly got burnt to a crisp and the Ravagers never let me live it down” Peter finished, still chuckling quietly. 

“So did you ever figure out what it was?” Tony asked, pulling his friend off of the path and onto the grass. 

“Nah, wasn’t ever brave enough to go back and was too embarrassed to ask” Peter answered, shucking off his coat and splaying it out on the grass, pulling Tony down with him as they sat facing the lake at the centre of the park.

Tony hummed thoughtfully and leaned into his friend, using Peter’s support instead of his own arms and chuckling when his friend ran a hand through his wayward hair. 

“Have you considered cutting it all off and starting again?” his friend asked softly, taking various locks in his hands and beginning to plait them slowly. 

“Considered: never went through with it… Natasha told me it gave me a devilish look that mixed with an ‘I don’t care’ look that suited me” Tony answered, watching the cloudy sky above them that provided little sun to keep them warm.

“It does suit you: she’s right” Peter responded softly, pulling his hands away and using them instead to support himself “Have you ever thought about coming out to space with us again: when you were around everything kind of seemed a little simpler – I had someone who understood… you know?”

“Yeah, I’ve thought about it” Tony admitted, playing with the cuffs of his own jacket “But… I don’t know… the Avengers are important too, and the last time I went out there Earth was almost destroyed”

“It’s not always like that: there are places I could take you – peaceful places – that would blow your mind” Peter responded a little defensively, a smile blooming on his friend’s face after a moment of silence “Asgard has nothing on some of the planets out there” 

“I believe you” Tony replied softly, closing his eyes and shuffling slightly, wriggling his shoulders to achieve greater comfort and sighing “I’m just afraid of everything falling apart while I’m gone… you know?” 

“I know” Peter admitted “But maybe you should, I mean, you stress so much all the time I think you need a break… frankly you’re scaring me a lot and I don’t want you hurting, you know?” 

He nodded, it was true, he had been on edge for some time, on a hair trigger and running at the drop of a pin, anxiety attacks where literally just around the corner for him, one thing wrong and he was past that breaking point. Thankfully, the last few times he had been in that place, Peter had been there with reassuring words and open arms.  
“I’m not hurting” he reassured, patting Peter’s arm gently and gazing up at him, catching his friends gaze and smiling “But you’re right: I’m stressed”

“So de – stress” Peter replied with a grin, pressing the back of his hand to Tony’s forehead “I’m afraid you’ll kill yourself”

“If you’re making sure I’m alive, apart from the fact that I’m talking, you should be checking my pulse” he stated playfully, taking hold of Peter’s wrist and pressing his friend’s hand to his chest: just below the arc reactor “Still beating?”

“Yeah” Peter murmured “Still beating”

///

“Hey, you”

Tony looked up at the call, and beamed when he caught Clint’s gaze from the doorway, two helmets dangling from his fingers, a handsome grin on his face.

“Road trip?” Clint asked simply, eyebrows raised in question as he pushed off from the door frame.

“Count me in” Tony replied, rising from his desk and throwing on his suit jacket with a grin on his face.

They ended up driving out into the country, onto the quiet highways and finally stopping when morning turned to evening, lying down next to Clint’s bike under an open sky. 

They were talking quietly, about nothing and everything, stuff that wasn’t important and then the stuff that really was, and all the while Tony couldn’t help but think _‘Shit, I really am in love with him’._

“So, it feels like I’ve lost you a little Tony, where’ve you been?” Clint asked, turning beautiful blue eyes on him that were crinkling at the edges in a fond grin that Tony madly wished was adoration, but knew it was just happiness.

In truth, he’d been around Peter; publicist work, events, and just spending down time together, they were getting along well, despite the pressures of a relationship, even a fake one, and Tony found that a lot of the time, Peter was the first thing on his mind whenever he was free. 

He felt guilty, because Clint was usually that person, he’d call his best friend after work, in the middle of the night, whenever and wherever he was: now, he had essentially replaced Clint with Peter and he felt awful.

“I’m sorry” he said sincerely, smile fading “I’ve meant to call, or visit but… I don’t know” he tried to put it into words, but it just wouldn’t fit, like the wrong pieces of different puzzles to the one he was trying to solve. 

“It’s okay” his best friend assured, placing a gentle hand on his arm and squeezing slightly “You’re spread pretty thin already, I couldn’t handle it: sometimes I’m a little worried that you can’t handle it either… but I look at you and I think even though you’re a little broken, you’ve got it figured out” Clint held up a hand when Tony opened his mouth and the archer grinned “I know you don’t think you’ve got it all figured out, but I read people Tony; you’ve got this: trust me”

Tony chuckled: speechless, before coming up with “You always know”

It was so very, painfully true, the irony was what parts Clint couldn’t see or ignored, but he hoped it was the former. The truth was Clint knew him, not some version of him, not the calm collective man he showed strangers, or the witty and chaste man he showed the media, but the real him: up front with his heart on his sleeve, distrustful and insecure, but undeniably _him._

“That’s because I’m brilliant” Clint said softly, chuckling and shuffling closer so that his friend’s chest was against his arm. 

Clint and he were the same, different people to different audiences, but where Tony was a performer, Clint was a deceiver, a con man in a world of cruelty; but to each other, they were them, there were no lies (now there was) there were no performances (oh god) and it was purely perfect friendship. 

The urge to utter the words ‘I love you’ came to him again, and Tony had to bite down hard, settling for silence as he moved his gaze from Clint to the sky above, picking out constellations to try and distract himself from the feeling in his heart, like there was a heavy lead inside it and that it was slowly, slowly sinking and it _hurt._

They eventually gave into the cold and Clint drove him home, when they parted Tony could see the concern but shook his head at Clint’s invitation to stay over, stating he needed rest and bidding his best friend goodnight, closing his door behind him and leaning against it heavily, listening to the sound of the motorbike rocketing off. 

He stood there for a long time, leaning against his front door and willing himself to move forward; but the weight he had been feeling had increased to the point where it was incapacitating him. Then, so suddenly it scared him, he was sobbing, breaths leaving him in heavy and loud gasps, hot tears rolling down his face, his knees felt weak, and he slid down the door, curling into himself to try and muffle the soft whimpers that were leaving him in pitching volumes: some loud, some quiet. 

It was too much, he was drowning in it, floundering helplessly and Clint wasn’t there to _pull him out_ and it was killing him slowly, like a terminal illness eating away at him... 

Strong, warm arms wrapped themselves around him and he was pulled into the solid chest of someone else, whose hands were smoothing over his back in gentle sweeping moments that were soothing him slightly. He was still crying, but the wracking sobs were slowly becoming less violent and more like quiet whimpers that voiced his inner pain just fine. 

“It’s okay” he had identified his comforter as Peter only moments before his friend spoke “I’m here… I know it’s hard: you’ll be okay”

He didn’t need to say a word, Peter was doing it for him, it was touching, and it brought more tears to his eyes, Tony shook his head and let out a choked “Thanks” before his voice left him and he buried his face into Peter’s chest again, wrapping his own arms around his friend and gripping him tightly. 

Slowly, gradually, the crying stopped, and he fell silent, breathing quietly and listening to Peter’s heartbeat. 

“Still beating?” Peter murmured, gently pushing Tony from him to gain his gaze. 

Tony let out a watery chuckle “Still beating”

“Come on” his fiend commanded gently, lifting Tony up with him, guiding him to his own bedroom and removing his suit jacket “Tell me”

“It hurts” he said simply, afraid he wouldn’t get any further and took off his shoes and socks, undoing his tie and ridding himself of that too, burying himself, still mostly clothed, in his covers but keeping his eyes open: Peter was offering a life raft. 

“Okay” Peter said softly, lying opposite Tony, causing the bed to dip slightly, facing him and catching his stare with a gentle smile, own shoes removed so his feet could rest on the bed. 

“He’s just… He’s everything Pete, I don’t like lying to him, but he doesn’t” Tony paused searching for words: for such an extensive vocabulary he couldn’t form a comprehensive sentence for anything “He doesn’t see me… not how I see him”

Peter nodded in understanding “Me too… but, you first”

Tony chuckled in a negative way, watching as his friend hopped under his covers as well and shuffling closer as he did so “He’s like that too: everyone before him and all that… It hurts that he’s _right there_ and I can’t… he’s not…” out of words, again “You and Clint are the only two people I’m actually me around, even you don’t see everything sometimes but… Clint is the one, I know it, I’ve never known it before but I know it’s him… I’ve never been so sure in all my life”

Peter made a sort of concerned noise and wrapped his arms around Tony, pulling him close “You’ll be okay”

“How do you know?” he said bitterly “Sorry… I’ve been telling myself that for years and… well it’s never really seemed to show, I’ve tried so hard to get him Pete, harder than I’ve tried for anyone… I love him and sometimes I think that’s scared him off because it’s so hard to be his best friend when all I can think about is how handsome he looks when he smiles and the way that his nose crinkles up when he laughs and how endearing it is when he laughs at my bad jokes and… shit, sorry, I…”

“It’s okay; I get it” Peter said softly “You pent up a lot of this don’t you?”

“Uh, yeah” Tony replied shortly, chuckling negatively for a second time “But to be honest I don’t know who to tell, and I feel like I just dumped a whole heap of feelings on you at once and no man should have to go through that and… Thanks Peter” he cut himself off from another rant and smiled at his friend, resting his head firmly on the closest pillow and curling himself close to Peter, grinning when strong arms squeezed him briefly.

“I’m always here Tony” Peter assured “If I wasn’t straight, and was still single - because let’s be serious, this face is irresistible – I’d real date you in a heartbeat: you’re a catch okay?”

Tony sighed and settled himself, shutting his eyes and murmuring “Okay… thanks”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried and laughed a lot writing this, I just hope I didn't kill too many of you... Tony just manages to do this to me - I write a lot of feelings and they're usually pretty painful - sorry.


	4. Variance

Two months had passed and he and Peter were a hit with the public, one of the top couples in fact, and they were still getting along, a month after Tony’s ‘break’ Peter had discovered that Gamora was happy for him too, and Peter had cussed for roughly an hour, kicking his Milano by mistake and then spending an hour apologising to it, Tony had had to chuckle a little at that, but in the end they both pushed aside their disappointment and just did what they did, enjoying each other’s company both in front of and away from the media, seeing just how much they could make the press believe without them doubting their information.

It had become more like a game to the two of them, but not to America, which was treating it very seriously. It was almost laughable. 

Then, suddenly, something changed. 

Clint had pulled him aside on a visit to SHIELD, to which he had brought Peter, and had expressed his concern that they hadn’t seen each other in a long time, and he had sounded just a little irritated. Tony had humoured him, and had assured his best friend that they were fine, he was just distracted, and had admitted that he was in the wrong, to which Clint had shook his head and said that he was wrong which had dissolved into a light hearted battle of soft punches and fake groans of pain. 

They were, of course, better now, but when they spent time together Tony could swear Clint was jealous of Peter, and wondered if it was just the fact that the time that his ‘lover’ now got given to him was the time that had once belonged to his best friend, or if maybe he had broken through slightly. It was fool’s hope, but it was hope nonetheless. 

Peter and he had talked, even though it was more Tony apologising than anything, but his friend now knew as much as Clint: which was everything, and Tony in turn knew everything about Peter, even though there was little he hadn’t to begin with. 

Affection was still laughably awkward, and even though they’d tried to practise it they couldn’t get within lips distance without cackling stupidly, and had decided just to wing it whenever they had to. Tony had never thought he could be happy in a fake relationship while watching the man he loved remain oblivious, but, strangely, it was happiness that ruled him. 

He was singing as he came into work on Monday (of all days), softly reciting words from ‘November Rain’ as he strolled through the office, even slowing his gait to gaze at New York’s skyline, humming slightly at the overcast look that the cold had given the day. 

“Morning Mr Stark” one of his employees said brightly as they stopped by the nearby water cooler “Good to see you out of the office”

“Morning” he greeted “And it’s Tony” he held the urge to say ‘Mr Stark was my father’ – only idiots said that. 

“Much work today?” they asked, drinking from their now full cup.

“Always” he answered briefly “One interview actually, which is weird for late November but, uh, it’s good for a break” he continued, adding “From board meetings and paper work I mean”

“I hear you” they said, nodding with a knowing smirk “A bunch of us are getting together for an ‘end of working year’ celebration in a few weeks, if you’re not busy, maybe you’d like to join us?” their voice read friendly, but their eyes read nervous… he was turning into Clint. 

“Inviting the boss?” Tony asked with a wry smile, brows raised in mock surprise, laughing when his employee swallowed nervously and resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder “Send me an email: I’ll be there okay?”

“That’s great” they replied with a beam before saying “Well… to work I guess” and then walking off.

Tony chuckled and entered his office, smile wavering when he looked at the work left for him and sighing, beginning to whistle the opening for ‘Scar Tissue’ as he set to work: it was going to be a long day. 

///

He was, of course, right, and when he stepped out of the building he looked in the opposite direction of his mansion, entertaining the idea of paying Clint a surprise visit, standing in front of the road for the longest of times trying to decide between the two men in his life…

He thought better of it and turned in the direction of home, keying open the door and humming quietly as he did so, stepping into the house and finding “Hooked on a Feeling” playing instead of silence. 

He wandered through his home, until he came across Peter in the entertainment room/bar holding two cue sticks with a grin on his face. “Found a way into your sound system” he said smugly, twirling the sticks in his hands skilfully “Up for a game?”

“Sure” Tony assented, taking a stick and nodding to Peter, allowing him first contact and watching the balls scatter, mind already lining up legal shots with each suit. 

He stepped up to the table and called stripes, knocking two balls closer to a corner pocket and smirking at Peter as his friend lined up his own shot, leaning halfway across the table to be able to reach. 

Their friendly game of pool quickly turned to a drinking game, where each pocket marked one shot. Eventually, Peter’s luck turned and Tony was losing accuracy fast, slowly growing frustrated and competitive all at once. 

At one point, once his friend had lined up his final shot at the eight ball, Tony had deliberately placed a hand on Peter’s ass to distract him, and his friend turned to him when the shot missed with a look of outrage. 

“You dirty cheat” Peter accused softly, turning to face him with a smile playing at his lips. 

Tony simply shrugged with a smirk “It is as it is Pete: which is my shot” as he made to walk away Peter grabbed his arm and pulled him back in, grip tight enough to hold him in place but not enough to hurt “Come on: all’s fair” he reasoned, ignoring the attraction that was currently nudging at him. 

His friend looked about to say something, but he didn’t get to voice it because at that exact moment Tony kissed him, pressing his hands to a firm chest and pushing his friend against the nearest solid object. It was mostly one sided, and he was pushed back as soon as they hit the wall. 

“Whoa hold on a second… we gotta think about this!” Peter exclaimed, holding him at arm’s length, eyes still half lidded as he panted slowly: clearly catching his breath.

Tony nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped by Peter’s lips to his, arms wrapping tightly around his waist and pulling him close as he responded in kind, pushing his tongue into his friend’s mouth and threading his fingers through the other man’s hair. The hands on his back moved to his rear and pulled him in tightly, pressing their crotches together for the briefest amount of friction that had him moaning softly into Peter’s mouth.

He was lifted, suddenly and quickly, off of his feet and placed onto the pool table, Peter wedging himself between his open legs and Tony made a soft noise of protest “If you’re sleeping with me it’s going to be in a bed”

“Why the hell is you saying that so attractive?” Peter breathed softly, a chuckled chasing his words as he pressed a kiss to Tony’s neck. 

“You’re an idiot”

///

Tony woke slowly, vision bleary as he opened his eyes and found himself curled into Peter, their legs entwined and their arms wrapped around one another. He sighed contently and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of his friend breathing and the soft sounds of the cassette that was still playing, looping itself over and again through the night. 

He didn’t know what time it was: he didn’t care, but something told him it was far past morning and that meant he was more than late for work – he wasn’t coming in.   
They’d gotten… carried away last night, that’s what he was telling himself, but his common sense reminded him that more than three times was not getting carried away. He ignored that part of him and lay still, eyes closed firmly to the world around him. 

“What time is it?” Peter’s voice was gravelly and had more of a lilt to it than usual, and Tony blinked at him in response, to which his friend chuckled “What’s with the look?”

“Did we seriously just sleep together after making a pact not to? Also, liar” Tony answered with a soft smile “You’ve definitely done this before”

“That’s mean, I’m too tired to argue, and that pact was more of a guideline anyway… I can see why everyone wants to get with you by the way: worth the trouble” his friend answered with a wry smile “What do you want to do Tony?” 

He thought on that for a moment, silent and pensive as his friend (lover?) waited for an answer. He knew, even though he’d been repressing it, that he found Peter attractive, and they did get along better than most… even though the whole ‘saving the galaxy’ thing would eventually get in the way, the aspect of dating his close friend was one that he didn’t find all that deterring. 

But, then, there was Clint… he loved Clint so much and even though he thought he and Peter would definitely work, and that he could fall in love with the guardian, he knew that if he did date Peter, Clint wouldn’t be an option because in all honesty he was ready to settle, and doing so with either Peter or Clint would mean all of the ground work was done… would he ever win Clint though? That was what determined his decision now…

He was, admittedly, growing tired of chasing a man who wasn’t interested, and settling with Peter, a man who was interested (which was a huge surprise and he wondered if the Gamora thing had been a ruse), did seem a lot easier… he realised he had a decision to make now, one that would change a lot about his life… so… the question was…  
Clint, the man he’d loved for so long but only received friendship in return, or Peter, the rugged Guardian of the Galaxy with whom he shared a deep understanding and attraction with?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here's where you, the reader, comes in. You get to decide how this romance ends, who Tony chooses, and how it affects his life. Know that both endings are possible, and there are no death traps. 
> 
> I'd love it if you let me know who you chose and why, it'll really help me out writing wise and will also give me some insight on my reader's perspectives! I won't bite: I love hearing what people have to say!
> 
> Select Chapter Five - Choose Peter
> 
> Select Chapter Six - Choose Clint


	5. Peter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, but it's supposed to hint at the fact that there is so much potential for the paur, and because this fiction had already set up the ground work: the chasing was done anway!

He decided he was sick of chasing Clint: he chose Peter.

“Hey, it’s worth a shot right?” he said with a smile, the gesture widening when Peter grinned in return, tightening his grip on Tony slightly. 

“I was hoping you’d say that” his lover replied with the same smile “Want to lay in bed all day?” 

Tony chuckled and nodded, a smile gracing his features “Sure”

///

He hadn’t expected to see this side of his friend, one that was sweet and kind and steady, one without the rushing around and the fiery bravado that he seemed to have about everything. Peter even eventually gave up the guardians too, and Star-Lord became a well-known hero name in New York.

Dating Peter, Tony had decided, was like dating someone straight out of a romance novel. He was gallant, a gentleman at all times, and had even brought Tony flowers on Wednesday, knowing that it was his least favourite day and using the gift so that he would smile.

It was cheesy and sweet and a completely different side to Peter that Tony hadn’t yet seen…

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! You're welcome to choose the other ending if you want, and give feedback if you choose.


	6. Clint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ending is longer, but only because none of the ground work was done, and I had to accept the reality that I couldn't just toss Peter out the window... it's a little sad but... it had to be

No, he had worked so, so hard to tell himself that Clint was it that stopping now – even though he and others were sure it was killing him – would mean he’d failed: and he didn’t often fail. 

He sighed, it was heavy and burdened and he felt _awful_ “I think… I think maybe you should go back to saving the galaxy and…”

“And drop it?” Peter looked crestfallen, and with anyone else he wouldn’t have cared – but he knew what his friend was going through now and he felt a little sick. He was, however, impressed with how the guardian handled it, by nodding and hardening his gaze “Okay”

///

He knew, as he waved off the Milano a week from those events that had been a turning point in his life, he and Peter would have a lot to work on their hands if they ever wanted the comfort and trust they once had, and he also knew that he was pushing away something that could have been great. But he couldn’t imagine himself running around with the gallant Peter Quill – who rarely took anything seriously – while holding onto a stable relationship: he couldn’t settle with a man like that, and he couldn’t see Peter settling either, there wasn’t that side – he imagined – of his friend.

Now, he was back where he had started, but he felt he was more or less ready for whatever came; he also had an idea or two. 

That night, he couldn’t take the silence of the house, and had given in to his boredom, finding himself knocking on Clint’s door in a matter of what felt like seconds. 

His best friend had barely opened the door when he started speaking “Look Clint, I have something to say to you and it’s crucial you listen”

The archer smiled, the look in his eyes saying ‘only Tony’, and guided him in gently, closing the door behind him “What did you blow up and who do I have to protect you from?” 

He chuckled in spite of the anxiety charging up inside of him, and he looked around the small domain to try and calm himself. Clint hadn’t really bothered with personal affects, and whatever he had was still packed in boxes or duffels “One day I’m going to move you into my home permanently” he declared softly, and it helped to calm him more than he had thought. 

“Don’t stall” Clint chided knowingly, a smile still present. 

How on earth could he have ever considered giving up on Clint?

He was silent for the longest time, and he could see the concern growing in his best friend’s gaze which really didn’t help him chart out what he wanted to say. He was determined not to make what he was about to confess sound like desperation or that he was looking for a rebound from Peter – who Clint still thought was dating him. 

“Peter was a ruse” he blurted out before he could stop himself, and he took the furrowing of Clint’s brow as a queue to keep talking “I don’t know what I was thinking so don’t ask but… it was to get your attention but then it didn’t so… point one” he explained “I know you’re probably furious but can I keep talking? I need to keep talking” 

Clint’s expression didn’t betray what he was thinking, and the archer nodded, folding his arms across his chest. 

He nodded and took a moment to start because he wanted this to make sense so badly “That other 20%... what if I’m that 20%?” it sounded awful, and not at all as eloquent as he had hoped: but he was tired of pretending. 

“Tony…”

“I’m not done Clint” he interrupted, closing the distance between them and catching his best friend’s gaze “I know what you’re afraid of – you’re afraid that I can’t commit, that I’ll break your heart from the word go, and I’m scared of that too – terrified in fact… and I’m not sure I’m helping my case in any way but…. Whaat are you doing?!” he froze then, because Clint’s hands were at his waist, pulling him in gently. 

“Testing the other 20%” the archer murmured, barely a centimetre apart from him. 

Tony swallowed, allowed his thoughts to catch up “Not because you feel guilty though… right?”

Clint didn’t answer, instead he pressed his lips to Tony’s firmly then pulled back “We’re both really, really, really stupid… aren’t we?” 

Tony laughed then, loud and long, and pulled himself against Clint tightly, pressing a kiss to the archer’s cheek “We are”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to chose the second ending, and also to leave feedback if you chose, I always love to hear from you all!


	7. Why not both?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people asked for a polygamous ending and I hate to disappoint so: this is officially the final chapter of Variables, thankyou for sticking with me through this experiment!

He didn’t really know how to word it, and he bit his lip softly before answering “Both of you?” he said it slowly, voice sounding unsure and tentative to his ears. 

Peter gave him a confused look “Like… like you want to date me… and then you want to date Clint at the same time? I mean, how does that even work?”

Tony made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a whine “Like… okay here: I date you, and then I date Clint too and you both know… get it?”

“Well, does that mean I have to date Clint? Because I’m not sure he likes me that way” Peter replied, Tony noted that it was good that he was at least considering this: because he had no idea what he’d say to Clint. 

“No, you can just date me… it doesn’t have to be a crazy triangle of love and sex” Tony answered, sitting up because he was admittedly getting excited. 

Peter chuckled slightly then “I don’t know what you’re going to say to Clint but… sure”

///  
Explaining the concept more than once was difficult, and by the end of the day Tony felt he would be explaining polygamy in his sleep; but finally, by some sort of miracle, Clint and Peter both understood and, surprisingly, assented to his proposal. 

At first it was amazingly awkward and Tony felt like it wasn’t going to work in a million years, but after a while, they developed a growing understanding of how it worked and then the awkwardness fell away and in all honesty Tony didn’t know why he’d never thought of it before. He was settled with the two men he trusted more than anyone else and didn’t have to hide his feelings from either. 

The only thing left for him to do was figure out how to coax them both into bed together. 

But he had years to do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's probably obvious I've never done that before and it probably seems like I faked my way through it but hey, I tried right?
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> You'll have to watch carefully to catch a lot of it, but I should warn you all that there are references to anxiety, and some depictions of it in this story so, just be careful okay?
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
